A Queen's Fortune
by franceandscotland
Summary: Mary lives under the scrutiny of not only her enemy England, but under the French court. She returns to France unsure of what an alliance may mean and of what her engagement to Francis is. Love, friendship, and betrayal surround her by those she suspects and those she knows not of. Rated M for future chapters
1. Chapter 1

Kings and Queens are trapped in a fated world, our destiny's chosen for us by men who we are supposed to be in control of. And we're entrusted to follow sets of rules as we try to enforce and rule a nation. I always hated that. If I'm to run a country then I should chose my own fate.

Francis told me once that love is irrelevant to people like us. He wasn't lying, either. When we let love get in the way of our decisions, it clouds our judgment, and we make irrational and unjust choices for those we love. Our world is centered around them. It could destroy a country and its people. I despised him for that in the beginning, but I understand why we can't put love first. It's our duty to our countries, a responsibility. But there are those, like Francis and me, who have been lucky enough where love is relevant, where love and duty go hand in hand, and where love makes us better and the world better.

* * *

I had been dreading as well as looking forward to what this day might hold the entire journey to the French court. It has been years, but France has always felt more of a home than anywhere else to me despite it not being Scotland. To see Kenna, Lola, Aylee, and Greer again makes me a little less on edge. And there was Francis, too. He stood as both the looking forward to and the dreading. It had been ten years since leaving and I knew it'd be different now, knew that somehow things would change and the childhood friendship I had with Francis when I was six would be altered by the fact that we would be married soon.

Memories of us chasing each other, playing in the mud, and laughter filled my head. My childhood was occupied by him and how much fun we had. I've wondered how life would differ from how it is now if the English hadn't threatened my life so harshly as a child. Whether we would be friends, enemies, or even lovers. But either way, we'd be getting married, because the treaty and alliance told us so. It was and never would be up for debate unless commanded by the King himself.

But there have been rumors and things I've been told about Francis that make me wonder exactly what this alliance is and how strong it is. Rumors of lovers and of illness. But whether he loved someone else or not, it didn't change any of the technicalities. I was being sent to France because our countries friendship could be useful if England ever attacked, and France to us was the same. Francis would be king one day and I his wife, and that was all. Many kings were known for not loving their wives and for keeping mistresses throughout their marriages, and for all I knew Francis could be the same. We were in an arranged marriage, after all.

I was lost in a sea of worries of what my life would be once stepping out of the carriage. At the very least, I had my friends, and I could only hope that Francis would be what I hoped for, not what I dreaded.


	2. Meetings and Realizations

The first thing I noticed as I stepped out of the carriage was how big the castle looked. So much different from when I was a child.

"Mary!" I heard from my right, drawing me out of my awe and I turned to see my four best friends step out of their own carriage. I could care less about a queen's courtesy as I literally ran to greet the girls I had grown up with. It had been years since seeing them too, and my excitement and relief to finally have them by my side washed over me.

"You all look so different" I said, and it was true. It had been so long and I'm sure to them I must have looked different as well, no longer the awkward tom boy I was. They looked old enough to marry, old enough to bear children and I was aware that's what all of us were really here for. "It feels just yesterday we were running around these gardens playing hide and seek."

"And now you're here to wed the Prince of France" Kenna said, smirking knowingly. She was always the mischievous one. So bold and outgoing and beautiful. Her advice and guidance would be necessary when it came to securing my place here at court.

I smiled at her, not willing to voice my doubts right as the horns sounded, and between the row of servants walked King Henry, accompanied by a beautiful dark haired women. "Is that the queen?" I asked, turning to look at Kenna, as she was best educated when it came to the French court.

"No" she said, and she smiled at me "that's the king's mistress, Diane. She's been with him longer than Francis has been alive" she informed me. Kenna burrowed her eyebrows in confusion a moment later as she looked past us. "Is that Francis?" she asked, and she pointed towards the younger man standing beside the king "he's gorgeous. Nothing like what's been said."

I ignored the last comment, knowing she was speaking to the rumored illness of the prince, but that couldn't be Francis. He had blonde hair, not black like the man standing beside the king. No, that had to be the king's favored bastard.

"Over there" Greer whispered and pointed off towards the grass, where a man walked towards them. He was blonde and tall and he walked with a certain strut that stated he was raised as a royal. There was a defiance in his appearance, and it said something to him. He didn't like to play by the rules, maybe. I glanced back and saw Kenna smiling, and couldn't blame her. A moment later Francis stood before her, a respectable distance apart and a smile with the intentions not unlike Kenna's gracing his handsome face. I knew now those rumors had to be false for his skin and hair were both golden and he held certain youthfulness not unlike when they were children.

"Your Grace" he said, bowing a little.

"No, please, call me Mary" I said, and I wondered if I sounded as nervous as I felt.

"Francis" he confirmed back, and his smile made me smile.

"It seems different somehow" I said, unsure of what else to say, and I continued to explain by his questioning face "the castle. And you. I mean, it all seems bigger. But then again, so are you and so am I." I said, my thoughts streaming out without my control.

"Does that surprise you?" he asked, and he seemed entertained by my ramblings.

"No, but your legs were always longer than mine. I hated that, you know? I was always chasing after you. But now-" I paused, afraid to say something wrong before deciding to take a page out of Kenna's book and said "well, now it suits you." His smile never left his face, and he bowed in gratitude before offering me his hand to walk towards what would become both my home and my kingdom.

* * *

The rooms I was given were beautiful and so much richer than what I had with the nuns. I asked the girls for a few moments alone to soak it all in. My bed was huge, with bedding made of the finest silks, as well as the rest of the furniture. There were multiple closets, all full of different dresses made out of fabrics from Paris. Bright colors I had never been able to wear before were spread out and I couldn't wait for the opportunity to wear one. When I lived with the nuns I wore what was given to me. We were taught of a simpler life, and I had what everyone else did. It was different here, though, and I could see that. I would be treated with a certain attitude, and each word spoken to me would be measure accordingly. I wasn't sure it pleased me, either.

Greer, Aylee, Lola, and Kenna came in a while later to help me get ready for the dinner being held that night for my arrival to France. My uncle, as well as other Scottish diplomats would be in attendance. I knew it was nothing but business, but I'd wanted to take the chance and speak with Francis, to really understand him and get to know him. The boy I played with as a child was only a boy and I was no in the presence of an entirely different man. But I was after all different too.

I decided to wear a dark purple gown, with beading carefully woven throughout to add to the beauty, and my dark hair remained down, one of the many jeweled headpieces placed in my hair. I also wore makeup, which I had never seen until today, making me appear older than I actually was, and prettier, too.

So much had changed in only a few days time, and you could see it clearly. I had feared so much what the French might say about the innocent girl who came from the nuns, but I no longer looked innocent. I was dressed for the part of someone at the French court, ready to speak to my future king and husband.

* * *

The dining room was large, filled with at least fifty guests, all standing as they clutched to their glasses of wine, laughter filling the air. I saw Francis across the room, speaking with the man Kenna had mistaken as Francis but I later found out to be Sebastian, King Henry's bastard child. Both men were laughing about something, and I had to agree with Kenna. They were both gorgeous. Sebastian must have felt my eyes watching them, for he whispered something to Francis right before he looked over to me. They exchanged a few more words before Francis made his way towards me.

"You seem to be adjusting to France quickly" he noticed, offering me a glass of wine, and I nodded in thanks and confirmation of his statement. "I hope you feel at home here."

"I will" I replied, and realized what was polite would be to say that I do. "At least, I do. I feel very welcomed."

He smiled knowingly "you don't have to pretend, Mary." He whispered as he glanced around "you can speak freely when with me, I won't tell." As we made eye contact I smiled, and I was no longer weighed down of the pressure to say the right thing because the truth was that we were both in the same situation. Forced into marriage by our countries and parents. Whether we wanted it or not was not up to us.

"Thank you" I said in return, and he nodded once again. "You don't seem much at home, either, you know" I observed, and he turned back towards me, alarmed, apparently at how well I must have read him.

I could tell he was choosing his words carefully through his delayed response "it's hard to feel at home when you don't have the freedom one should have in a home. Every move I make is watched, every word I speak heard."

"I understand" I replied, and he appeared doubtful. "You're always being kept in line, as if you'll make a mistake if you're not constantly under the eyes of those in charge to take care of you." I said, confirming that I did in fact understand.

"Exactly." He said, surprised that I would know anything about how he was feeling. For all he knew I had no idea of the workings of royalty. I actually think he expected that. "My life doesn't belong to me, it belongs to the king and queen."

"One day, when we rule, our lives won't belong to anyone but us."

He nodded slowly and looked away, and I was remotely aware that I may have said something wrong. "I'm not so sure when that day will come."

"What do you mean?" I asked, unsure of whether he was expressing his impatience or speaking to what I had just said.

He looked back at me "an alliance with Scotland can only stay temporary" he explained carefully. "I don't think our countries will end up needing each other in the long run. I think once we prove to England to be strong enough, they'll back off."

"England isn't going to just back off" I said in sudden defense, because what he was saying goes against every reason I returned to the French court. "The only way to keep either of our countries from going to war is by our union. They won't back down by an inkling, they'll need actual proof, Francis."

He shook his head "Scotland needs our help, I understand that. But France will find stronger allies if they really need to."

"Wait" I said, forgetting about the politics and understanding what he was actually talking about. "You have no intention of marrying me, do you?"

"It's just not logical" he responded firmly, with no doubt evident.

"What's not logical is you breaking an alliance we've had since we were six because you don't like me." I replied back with discontent, and I was disgusted and self conscience by the truth behind his hesitancy. The fear of saying something wrong out of the window because he was already opposed to her.

"I don't know you, Mary" he replied back, as if he was assuring me that my doubts and worries were pointless. "But it doesn't matter because it's not right for France or Scotland right now. We won't need each other, I know it."

"No" I said, shaking my head "you have a _feeling _that England will suddenly decide to make friends with it's enemies. Whether you like it or not our countries need each other" I informed him as I handed him my wine glass. "You're underestimating them" I said before storming away from him, needing to sit and soak in that Francis was no where close to the page Mary was on.


End file.
